What Can't We Face
by Cati Jones
Summary: Five years post Chosen, the Scoobies are getting on with their lives. Everything is as close to perfect as it can be, which of course means that everything has to suddenly go wrong. With the return of an old friend, can they face this new threat? And what will they have to sacrifice to pull through?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, first attempt at a multi-chapter fic. I'm going to go ahead and warn you now, I'm giving you two chapters to start out with, but updates are very likely going to be erratic. Point being, don't panic if I do a several month long hiatus. I am not, and never will, abandon this story. That being said, please read and review (and be kind when you do so :) ).**

It was several hours after nightfall, and the stars were gleaming brightly, cutting sharp beams through the smog and pollution that blanketed the area. The moon shone with a pale light, smiling in its crescent grin down at any that thought to look. Of course, no one in London did. They were all far too caught up in their own lives, their happiness and their grief, their joy and their sadness. They noticed nothing else, and why should they?

Of course, the two girls hopping the black iron fence into the cemetery had more reason not to pay attention than most. After all, what did the moon matter when they knew that if they were caught in this act, they'd be arrested.

And that was if it was the _police_ who found them.

"Come on," whispered one anxiously. "We've got to do this now." She stood tall and thin, and she looked to be about seventeen or so. Her dark red hair fell in a shimmering cascade down her back, glinting with the light of the sky. Her deep blue eyes scanned the area impatiently. "It's now or never, Mandy. Hurry up."

"I'm trying," Mandy whined. "Just stop for a minute, would you?" She appeared to be very young, twelve at most, with her mousy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. "It's just, Eliza, are you sure that this is what we're supposed to do?"

"My Sight is never wrong," Eliza hissed back. "We don't do this, and the whole world ends."

"Uh huh… Can we just do it and go then? This place gives me the wiggins."

The pair of girls hiked through the graves, Mandy bumping into every other one. "Ow. Ow," she muttered. "Ow. Eliza, can we just do it here? I can't see a thing."

Without stopping, Eliza swooped up the younger girl in her arms (ignoring her sounds of protest) and kept walking. "You've still got it, right?" she checked.

Mandy sighed and nodded, clutching a bulky manila envelope tightly in her arms.

"Good. After all we went through to get it, digging through that rubble, almost reopening the Hellmouth, if you had lost it…"

"What do you think I am, stupid?"

"I think you came into your Slayer powers three months ago. And we haven't been focusing on your training nearly as much as we should have been."

"Yeah, 'cos we've been too busy following your stupid Sight to try and save the world. Why can't somebody else do it for a change?"

"We're just pieces in a bigger puzzle here, Mandy. My visions showed me that we have to do is, 'cos no one else is going to….We've been over this."Then, she stopped suddenly and set Mandy on the ground. "This is it," she breathed. "This is where we're supposed to do it."

They stood in front of a dusty old crypt. The walls were aged grey stone, and cobwebs decorated the doorframe. The wood of the door itself was rotting, so it was no trouble for the girls to force it open.

"Again," Mandy said, "we _are_ supposed to be doing this, right?"

Eliza sighed. "If we weren't, we wouldn't. But I saw it: he has to be here, or the world _will _end this month. And this is the only way for us to get his butt in this dimension."

"I know, but…" Mandy shivered. "...It just seems so wrong somehow. Unnatural. Bringing people back to life and all that. Besides, we don't even know where he is right now. He could be better off!"

"It doesn't matter," Eliza stated firmly. "The world needs him, whether he wants to come back or not. And we're not 'bringing people back to life' as you put it. It's one person, and he'll still be dead when he gets over here. Look, would you just take the paint out? We don't have time to second-guess ourselves."

Mandy opened the envelope, and took the bottle of red paint out. She squirted a little into her hand to ensure that it worked, smearing it all over her palm. "Here you go," she sighed, holding it out. "Could we get it over with now?"

Eliza accepted the paint from her friend. "Let's do this." She glanced at Mandy. "You remember what I said earlier?"

"Yeah, I know. Let you do the spell-casting, stay away from the symbol, don't speak Latin in front of the books, et cetera, et cetera."

"Right."

Mandy grinned, excited now that they were finally getting down to it. "I wonder how he's gonna react! You know, to coming back and all. I can't wait to see-"

"No!" Eliza exclaimed. Mandy stared at her, confused. "No," she continued in a softer voice. "No, it… it wouldn't go over well if he saw me. there'd be… questions that I just don't want to answer yet. As soon as we perform the spell, we're getting out of here."

"But… But we can't just leave! What if things don't go well? You said that you saw him with his friends! What if we're supposed to make that happen?"

"We're not going to completely leave the area, Mandy. We'll keep a lookout, and if things get so that we need to interfere, we'll do that. But until then, we're watching from the sidelines, maybe continue your training a bit. You did say that you wanted to train, right?" Eliza eyed her. "That is something you want to do?"

"...Yeah…"

"Good. Now, can we please continue with this?"

Mandy nodded, though from the look in her eyes, Eliza could tell that she wasn't quite satisfied. But that would have to wait.

She had a resurrection spell to cast.

Eliza stood in the center of the crypt and squirted the red paint around her in an occult symbol that closely resembled a pitchfork on top of a bulls-eye.

"Amulet," she ordered, snapping her fingers impatiently. Mandy dug into the envelope and pulled a necklace from it. In the center of the jewelry was a crystal stone encircled with golden mesh. She handed it to Eliza and she placed it in the center of the symbol.

_Permissum vas of cado dare him ut is universitas._

_Permissum champion publicus transeo._

_Pro orbis terrarum est egenus him iterum._

_Permissum vas of cado dare him ut is universitas._

_Permissum champion publicus transeo._

_Pro orbis terrarum est egenus him iterum._

_Permissum vas of cado dare him ut is universitas._

_Permissum champion publicus transeo._

_Pro orbis terrarum est egenus him iterum._

Over and over Eliza chanted the spell, her brow furrowed and her eyes closed in deep concentration. "And they say Latin is a dead language," Mandy muttered.

Suddenly, the amulet began to glow brightly, and a swirling storm of ash poured from it. "That'd be our cue!" Eliza shouted. "Come on Mandy!" The girls grabbed hands and sprinted from the crypt, not stopping to catch their breaths until they reached the graveyard fence.

"So…" Mandy panted, "... what… are we gonna... do now?"

"Now we wait," Eliza answered. "We wait and see what happens next."

* * *

In the crypt, the dust slowly formed a cohesive mass; then a man stood there where no one had been before. His battered duster flapped out behind him, and his expression stayed transfixed in one of pain. His bleached white hair was covered in grit, and his piercing blue eyes stared at a fixed point, into a memory only he could see. The most noticeable feature about him, however, was the silver-white scar on his eyebrow.

* * *

About thirty miles away, a red-headed witch moaned and dropped onto the couch, unconscious.

**A/N: So... Any guesses? Teehee...**

** Like it? Hate it? **

** You know what I like? Reviews (hint hint)**


	2. Chapter 2

One Hour Previously...

Buffy Summers couldn't get her hair right.

She'd played with it for hours, curling it then straightening it, pulling it up only to let it fall loose all over again. She made a dissatisfied noise as she checked her reflection. Something just wasn't right.

But Buffy knew what it was, and it wasn't her hair.

She'd last seen him five years ago today, the light gleaming on his face. She'd tried, tried so hard to get him to leave with her, but he'd insisted on being the stupid hero, the guy who sacrifices himself to save everyone else. In the instant they'd clasped hands, she'd finally realized what she had been denying to herself for years.

She loved him. Loved him with all her heart.

And she'd told him, too. In those last moments, she'd told him. He denied her, saying she didn't.

That was her greatest regret. Not having the time to convince him that she'd been truthful. Now she never would.

Tears splashed down her cheeks as she remembered him. The way he'd cock his head and raise an eyebrow. The way he'd bite his lip when he was uncertain of himself. The way he always looked out for her and everyone else, even before he'd earned his soul back.

His soul. That was another thing. She had always treated him so badly, whether she was beating him up or using him. The way she had stopped things between them had driven him over the edge, led him to attempt what she instinctually knew he wouldn't have otherwise. Afterward, when she discovered that he'd left town, she never expected to see him again, and only a part of her had been glad. Then he came back and she'd found him insane in the high school basement. At first she'd had no clue. But that night in the church, that night when she realized… He'd fought to have his soul restored. Even after how she'd treated him, he still strived to be the man he thought she wanted. Buffy hadn't realized how much it meant to her until after it was too late to tell him.

A gentle knock on the bathroom door broke the slayer out of her reverie. "Buffy?" the voice of her sister asked softly. "Buffy, are you in there?"

Buffy crossed to the door and opened it, not caring if her little sister saw her puffy red eyes or the tears tracing down her face.

Though, she mused, she could hardly call Dawn _little_ anymore. She was twenty-one now. Two years ago, she'd cut her hair short and curled it, adding different colored highlights to it as she went along. With the change in style had come a sudden increase in maturity. She was perfectly capable of handling herself now, not just in battle, but in the real world as well.

Dawn smiled and put her fingers to the side of Buffy's face. With a start, Buffy realized that her sister had been crying as well. "You got the weepies too, huh?" she said hoarsely, trying to joke. Dawn laughed a little, seeing the attempt for what it was.

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's always today, isn't it? The one day a year when it's mandatory that we all get back together. The one day when we can bawl like little babies."

Buffy returned the small grin. "Mmhmm. I'm so glad that Will's gonna be able to make it over from Brazil. What with the whole Kennedy-breakup, I was a little worried she wasn't coming."

"She wouldn't miss it for anything, and neither would Xander. I can't wait to hear what he's been doing in Africa!"

"Don't forget that Andrew's coming from Rome…" Buffy sighed, "...which I guess couldn't have been avoided… Come to think of it, I'm actually getting a little pumped to listen to him go on and on about how he's a Watcher now."

"Uh oh," Dawn laughed. "Who are you and what have you done with Buffy?"

Buffy joined in the giggle fest, though both girls knew that it was a bit forced.

Dawn quieted down. "I miss them."

"Me too."

Dawn was silent for a moment. "I… I never told Spike that I forgave him," she whispered, finally giving voice to a thought that had haunted her for years.

"What?"

"After he tried to…hurt you, I hated him. For a long time. But after he came back with a soul, things were different. I was still angry, but even that kinda disappeared. I never told him though. He probably died thinking I still couldn't stand him." Tears began leaking from her eyes again, and she frustratedly wiped them away.

Buffy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders. She expected Dawn to push her away -now that she was all grown-up, she wasn't much with the hugging- so she was surprised when she just snuggled closer. "Oh Dawn," she murmured, stroking her multi-colored hair, "I'm sure he knew."

Dawn looked up, indicating that the moment was over. "Should we get going?" she asked, sniffling a little. "I mean, we might as well go comfort the others now that we got our tears out."

"You're right. Let's go. Want to take the Jeep?"

"Only if you let me drive."

"A world of no. Let's go grab a taxi."

* * *

The sisters were still arguing when the cab pulled up to Giles' house. "I've had my license for four years now, Buffy. You can trust me to drive the bloody car!" Dawn was insisting.

"Dawn, if you want to drive, you need to start saving for your own car. There is no way I am ever letting you behind the wheel of my jeep… and since when do you say 'bloody'?"

"I say it all the time! And FYI, I'm _better_ at driving than _you_ are!"

"If I let you take my Jeep, it'll come home with a bazillion dents in it. I can tell."

"Fine," Dawn subsided grouchily. "Let me know if you're going to invite me to the wedding."

"I… what? I don't love the car, Dawn"

"Nice comeback."

"Shut up."

Dawn rapped sharply on the door of the house. "It's open!" the familiar British accent called. Dawn opened the door, and she and her sister stepped inside Giles' cozy living room.

"Hey you guys!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Giles, quick! I need your support!" Dawn cried. "I'm so old enough to drive a car now, right?"

Giles blinked, seemingly taken aback by this rather abrupt solicitation. "Er…"

"I think so!" Xander said, then quickly ducked under Buffy's reproachful gaze. "Not that my opinion matters at all."

"Are we all here?" Buffy inquired, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. They'd never be all here. Tara, Anya… Spike. None of them would ever come to another Scooby meeting. Thankfully, her friends seemed to gloss over this fact.

"Andrew was delayed in Italy," Giles informed her. "Otherwise, yes, we are all present."

A sniffle drew the group's attention to Willow. _Damn_, Giles mentally berated himself. _How could I be such an idiot? _Because of course they weren't all there. Willow was still suffering from her and Kennedy's violent break up the previous week. "I apologize, Willow. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Willow dismissed with a wave of her hand, trying to crack a small smile. "I mean, we both knew it was going to happen eventually. She… she was my rebound girl. It was nice while it lasted though."

Buffy walked over to where she was standing and gave her a hug. "We can be single freaks together then," she comforted. "As long as you let me be president of the club."

Willow smiled, for real this time. "Deal."

"So, nothing's… going on?" Dawn checked. "No… demons, or vampires, or apocalypses? We can just have a happy, _normal _get-together?"

"As far as I can reckon, yes," Giles responded. "The undead community has been rather quiet of late. I believe we can expect a safe time tonight."

"GILES!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Come on, G-man, what'd you say that for?" Xander complained. "Now something's gonna come up for sure!"

Giles took off his glasses and polished them. "Xander, I am sure that nothing-"

Suddenly, Willow moaned and dropped onto the couch, unconscious. "Will!" Xander cried, casting Giles an I-told-you-so look before joining the others in rushing to her side.

* * *

Willow groaned and opened her eyes. Her head pounded in a not-so-nice way, and everything seemed a bit cloudy. "Hey guys," she murmured. "Who turned on the fog machine?"

"What?" Dawn asked, confused. "Willow, you passed out."

"Huh? Oh, I guess I did." She struggled to sit up, remembering what had hit her so suddenly. "I… I think I had a… it was a sort of... vision?"

"A vision?" Giles inquired concernedly. "Of what kind? Willow, what did you see?"

Willow shuddered with the memory. "I-I-I don't know. It was just this feeling… Something's happened to the universe. It's all out of balance. T-There's something really wrong."

Buffy noted the sudden relapse into a stutter. Whatever her friend had felt, it must have shaken her up pretty badly. " 'S okay, Will. We're gonna find out what this is and put a stop to it."

"Is there anything else you can remember?" Giles pressed.

"No, it was just the feeling."

"It's lucky Andrew wasn't here," Xander joked. "He would've made a 'disturbance in the force' comment for sure."

Giles peered disapprovingly at him over his glasses. "Indeed."

"Well, I guess we need to hit the books then," Buffy sighed. "Figure out what could've had such a big impact on the universe."

Dawn moaned, seemingly pained by the thought of research at ten at night.

**A/N: Once again, please review! Cookie to anyone who can guess why Andrew's been delayed... **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: OMG, ****_6_**** followers! For only two chapters? You guys are so awesome! Thank you!**

**_PersiJackson: Uh, you'd be right there. It's not Portuguese, I've got _no idea_ why Google translate would give you that. It's Latin, and while I lost the actual meaning of the spell, it's basically about using the amulet as a vessel to convey the champion to this world, because the world needs him again. I hope that helps, and thanks ever so!_**

**_Shinobinin: Thank you! :) No, Andrew's not there, but cookie for an awesome guess! (::)_**

_I wanna see how it ends._

Spike let out a long, primal yell and collapsed on the ground, shaking all over. The memories of what he'd been enduring a mere moment ago flooded his mind, and he curled himself into a ball, making a sound halfway between a gasp and a moan. The fire, the blood, the years upon years of pain- at least, it had felt like years- all ripped through his mind, and he wished for unconsciousness, or perhaps insanity. Either would be fine at this point.

But he'd hung on to his identity through all his torment; it felt like a waste to surrender it now. He pushed himself to a sitting position, ignoring the pain that whipped through every inch of his body as he did so; the one memory that had kept him going swept through his head, causing him to forget about the pain.

Blonde hair sweeping over glowing hazel eyes. The scent of vanilla and cream. The soft touch of the woman who had so efficiently captured his heart.

_I believe in you._

Buffy.

The name rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and he savored the sound of it, even though he was able to produce barely more than a whisper.

Buffy.

_I love you._

She'd said it, right before the end, just like that girl Cassie had said she would. But all Spike could remember feeling was annoyance. He was going to die, so that's when she chose to bring it up? It'd made it plain that she hadn't really meant it. No, she was just throwing a dying man a bone, one last shred of comfort. It'd been nice of her to think of it though, so he had simply favored her with a small, comforting smile.

_No you don't. But thanks for saying it._

Then she'd run, and he had burned, ending up in a place that made him wish to be back in that Hellmouth all over again.

Tears streaked down his cheeks. All he wanted now was to find her. And that would mean pulling it together. _So come on, Spike_, he prompted himself. _Pity party's over. Let's go to work._

He staggered to his feet and gathered his leather duster closely around him. It was a miracle it had survived, really, and he wondered if whatever had brought him back had repaired it as well. The rest of his clothes were completely intact, too, though blood from his various wounds began to seep through the fabric as he watched, red droplets dripping down to the ground.

_The ground_, he thought. _Real, solid ground… Where the hell am I? _He looked around, half-expecting to be right where he had left off, in a collapsing cave. The grey walls and cobwebs swiftly proved otherwise. _A crypt,_ he thought. _I'm in a bloody crypt! _He wanted to laugh with the familiarity of it all. Then he frowned. The floor under his feet had been painted red with some kind of symbol, and underneath his boot… Spike narrowed his eyes and picked up the necklace. He hated the thing, and with good reason, but he supposed it made sense to use it to bring him back; the bloody thing _had_ killed him after all. He sighed and tucked it into his pocket, feeling slightly better to have something recognizable with him… since apparently those who'd conjured him over here hadn't cared enough to stick around. He frowned again. Another mystery to puzzle out… when he didn't feel so much like falling over.

Outside, the night air was cold and crisp, but Spike barely noticed. He was focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, making his way around the graves. Eventually, the pain became so much that he stumbled against a headstone and slid down to sit next to it. He wouldn't have paid it any attention -it was just a convenient place to rest, that was all- but as he took a long, shuddering breath,he caught a scent that he'd only fantasized about for years.

Vanilla.

_She'd_ been here.

Spike inhaled long and deep, silently cursing his damaged senses. He was unable to tell when, but Buffy had been here. _Right_ here. And the rest of them too. Niblet, Red, Watcher, the Whelp… and was that Andrew? The only scent that he couldn't detect was Anya's, and worry dug at him. He scooted back and squinted so he could see the inscription on the tombstone

_This is for Them_

_Joyce_

_Tara_

_Anya_

_William_

Ah. So Demon Girl hadn't made it out. A pang of sorrow twisted Spike's gut. Anya had been nice to him, and more importantly, they had sort of understood each other. Two monsters trying to find the humanity within themselves.

Spike smiled softly as he traced the letters of William with his fingertips. She'd put his Christian name on the grave. The sweetness of the gesture touched him. It was strange to think that he now had two graves, one in London and now one in…

But wait. If this were Sunnydale, Joyce and Tara's name wouldn't also be here; they had graves of their own. That meant…what?

The sound of chimes caused Spike to look up, startled. In the distance… there it was. Big Ben, framed by the light of the city. London. He was in London. Why was he in London?

For that matter, why were _they_ in London? And why put Joyce and Glinda's names on the stone too? They had their own graves… unless they didn't anymore. But what could've happened?

Spike turned his attention back to the headstone. Objects were clustered around and on it. He picked up a picture of Joyce and the girls, and his heart lurched. Those hazel eyes stared at him, and even though it was only a picture, Spike felt as if Buffy was really there. He set the picture down again, taking stock of the other items. Some crystals, undoubtedly belonging to Glinda, a ring that looked identical to the one Xander had worn at the wedding. And… _Well 'ello there._ On top on the tombstone sat Spike's lighter.

He could still remember when he gave it to her, that last night in the basement. They had done nothing more than hold each other, but they did so desperately, both knowing that there might be no tomorrow. Spike had then pulled away and looked at her.

"_What?" she demanded._

"_Buffy, if I don't make it…"_

"_Don't say that. We're all going to make it." She cringed as the words left her mouth, obviously knowing that it was untrue. There was no way that everyone would survive the upcoming battle._

"_If I don't make it," he persisted," I want you to have this." He outstretched his palm, the lighter in the center of it._

"_Spike... I can't take your lighter. You'll need it _when _we get out of this." She put heavy emphasis on the when, but Spike just smiled. He knew that there would be no _when _for him. As soon as he'd felt the weight of the amulet in his hand, he'd known it was his death sentence. He wouldn't tell Buffy though, _couldn't. _She'd just make him throw it away, or worse, try to wear it herself, and that wouldn't do. So he merely tried to put her fears to rest, assure her that they'd come out on top._

"_You give it back after then, alright? But for now…" He paused. "For now, I'd just feel better knowing that you have it."_

_Buffy slowly took the lighter from his hand. "Okay," she agreed, "but I am going to get this back to you. You understand?"_

_Spike nodded._

"_I don't have anything to give to you," she murmured, leaning in close to him._

_He wrapped his arms around her. "This is enough, luv," he whispered. "This is enough."_

_But Buffy was already asleep._

Spike closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the memory. It had been one of the best nights of his existence. He wondered where she was now, whether she'd gotten on with her life, if she was even still alive. Though he hated to consider the possibility, there was a chance that one of these many tombstones had her name carved onto it.

_She saved the world_

_A lot._

Nope. Not again. Never again. She'd still be around, even if it was… Bollocks. He didn't even know what year it was now! Time doesn't have much meaning when you're…

Spike shrugged the thought off. No. He needed to get past that. He was here, now, and he had some people to find.

Standing, he pocketed his lighter and stumbled in the direction of the light.

**A/N: Hope you liked that one, and, uh, if the headstone thing was too cheesy, someone let me know... I tend to wander off into the cheesy side. Also, if I got something wrong with the way Spike thinks, or talks, or blinks, tell me! I refuse to mess him up.**

**With that said, I hope you liked it, and reviews are appreciated! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you so much to those of you who've reviewed, favorited, and/or followed! You guys are fantastic!**

_**rinead: Thank you so much! That really means a lot, and I'll be sure to keep on posting!**_

**Um, I also realized that I haven't put my disclaimer yet, so let me clarify (and this applies to any and all chapters): Any characters you recognize belong to Joss Whedon. I just borrow and play with them.  
**

Meanwhile…

"So, it was like a disturbance in the force? Willow, are you a Jedi now?" the voice gasped. "That is so awesome! Could you teach me? Like Yoda?"

Willow sighed, holding the phone away from her ear as she let Andrew ramble. "Andrew, I'm not a Jedi, okay? It was a wicca thing."

"But it was like a disturbance in the force, right? I mean, you said…"

"Whatever makes you happy. Listen, I'm calling to ask if there's anything going on down there in Rome. Anything, I dunno, all impacty and dangerous. Something that would throw the universe out of whack."

"Well, actually, I'm working on something that… I don't have any details yet, Willow." Andrew's voice was suddenly uncharacteristically worried. "I'll call you back, but right now, I just need more time, okay?"

"Uh, okay," she replied, stunned by the sudden change in his demeanor and the amount of concern he was conveying. Whatever was happening, it couldn't be good. "Talk to ya later." She hung up with a frown.

"So, did he know anything?" Dawn asked her.

"Um, actually, I think he did. But he sounded really worried, and he said he was still working on it, so I didn't press."

"Great," Buffy moaned, rubbing her temples. "That puts us back at square zero."

"We must keep trying," Giles reminded them. "Whatever Willow sensed could have catastrophic results, and we cannot be left standing in the dark."

Xander looked up from the book he was reading. "I'm all for the no-darkness thing, but let's face it, guys. This is getting us zip. There're just too many possibilities."

Buffy sighed. "He's right. There's no way we're gonna figure this out the conventional way. I should go patrol."

"Actually, that may not be the best course of action."

Buffy turned to her Watcher, eyebrows raised.

"Buffy, in normal circumstances, I would approve, but we have no idea what we could be facing. We only know that for a moment, it threw the universe completely out of balance, and I do not want you to come up against it until we are completely prepared for the threat it could pose."

"But how else are we supposed to…" Buffy pouted, then her face lit up. "Will?"

Willow realized what she was getting at. "You want me to do a spell?"

"Well, is there a spell that you could use to figure out what this is?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure…"

"She's quite right," Giles agreed sternly. "She should not have to use those powers any more than is absolutely necessary."

Annoyance surged through Willow. Giles was purposely misunderstanding her response, she could tell, and while his voice was laced with concern, the underlying tone to his words sang a very different tune.

He didn't think she could do it.

He didn't believe she could use her magic for something like that and not go dark.

It was all she could do to keep from blowing a fuse. Willow had proved herself by doing the Slayer spell, and Giles _still_ didn't trust her with magic? It was really unbelievable. She had learned her lesson; she knew her limits, and she knew where the line was drawn between using the magic and it using her. She was careful never to cross it. She wished she could spew this all out at Giles, but she feared that it would only hurt her cause if she said it in the wrong way, so she just crossed her arms.

"That's not what I meant, Giles," she said pointedly, "but I think there's something else I can try. I could do a spell that would lead me to where the disruption originated. Then we might be able to find out more about it."

"Willow, are you sure you're-"

"Yes! A big yes! I can do this Giles, I've done stuff like it before. And there's no use arguing- I've got my resolve face on. See? Look at the resolve."

GIles sighed and took off his glasses to polish them. "Alright. Just don't go alone. I don't think that I need to reiterate that we have no idea what sort of danger we're facing."

Buffy opened her mouth, but Xander beat her to it, looking up at her from his chair. "I'll go. My eye is seriously burning from all this pretending to read." Buffy closed her mouth again, looking disappointed.

"Great! Let's go now!" Before Xander could protest, she teleported them both to her apartment.

"Geez, Will. Next time, let me stand up first," Xander commented dryly from the floor.

Willow looked down at him. "Oh, gosh. Sorry Xander, there was just… so much… I just don't like it when Giles doubts me like that... you know…"

"It's fine. Just a little warning would be good." He stood. "So, we doin' a spell or what?"

"Right! I should have everything we need in my room! I'll do it and be back in a jiffy!" Willow scampered off, leaving Xander in the living room. He sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting down. His hand fell on a purple jacket next to him, and he held it up. He'd never seen Willow wear it, so he supposed it must have been Kennedy's. Xander stuffed it under a pillow..

Suddenly, a loud bang and some vigorous cursing sounded from Willow's room. She emerged amidst a cloud of black smoke, coughing and waving her hand in front of her face.

"Wow. Where'd you learn words like that?" Willow just glared at him, and he threw up his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry. So, I take it the spell didn't work then?"

"Oh, it worked. It was just a little more… explosive than I thought it'd be." she stated. "But I do know where we need to go."

* * *

"You know, I've got no problem with walking," Xander muttered, rubbing his arms in an attempt to ward off the cold. "I mean, I love being beamed around as much as the next construction worker, but I don't think my stomach can take much more of this."

"I'm sorry, but we don't have the time to spare right now," Willow replied shortly. "Over there."

The pair stood in one of the numerous graveyards on the outskirts of town. The red head pointed to one of the crypts near the center. "Right. Of course. The crypt. Silly me. 'Cos it's always the crypt. Why is it always a crypt? Why not a… a park, or a-"

"Come on Xander."

"Coming."

They entered the crypt with no difficulty; the door had already been forced. "Well, I think we've got the right place," Xander said. The first thing he had noticed was the bright red symbol on the floor.

"Yup," Willow confirmed, staring at the ground. "We're in luck. I know this symbol. It's used when summoning things from other dimensions."

"Oh. That's great! It's probably just some demon then. We'll get Buffy, she'll make with the slaying, and we'll all go home!"

"It's not gonna be that simple."

"Of course not."

Willow ignored him, crossing the crypt and kneeling near the symbol. "There's blood here."

"You sure it's not paint?" Xander hedged.

"After all the experience we've had? It's blood."

"Great. So it was one of those blood sacrifices then. I hate those!"

"It sure seems that way. And whatever it was that they summoned threw the whole universe a curveball. It's gonna take more than a stake or a sword."

"Again with the extreme not-greatness. Can you tell what sort of demon it might have been?"

"Not from here. We should get back to Giles'. I'm pretty sure that symbol can only be used for certain things, so I'll work on that." The witch raised her arms.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we walk?" Xander pleaded. "At least for part of the way?"

Willow smiled and lowered her hands. "Sure."

She and Xander walked out into the crisp night air again. "Why does this feel so familiar?" Willow mused.

" 'Cos we're the Scoobies. Those who hang out in cemeteries," Xander joked.

"Yup. It's our destiny." Willow paused, allowing Xander to reply. When he didn't, she turned to him. "Xander?"

He was staring at something with a stricken look on his face. Willow followed his gaze to a certain tombstone. "Oh. Oh, yeah. Five years ago."

He shook his head. "No, it's not that. Someone's been messing with it."

She realized what he meant. Not everything was in the same place as when they had last seen it, and something… something was missing.

"Spike's lighter," she said. "His lighter's gone." Xander started at the anger in her voice. "Our demon likes to smoke," she seethed, "and he looted our memorial to do it. Oh, he is so going down."

**A/N: Somehow, this ended up feeling like a filler chapter to me, but oh well. I wanted to get something out there. And I did enjoy having Willow and Xander completely misinterpret the situation. :)**

**Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here we are! Chapter five! The one we've all been waiting for! Well, not you guys, since I didn't tell you, but... Trust me. You've been waiting for this.**

_**PersiJackson: OMG, thank you! I'm not **_**that _good, but that means a lot. You wonder indeed! Well, you should like this chapter then. Thanks for the advice!_**

**_Rinead: Thank you, and I'm glad you think so. Me too; you'd have to be crazy not to love a good story with Spike. :) I'll be sure to keep on updating!_**

**Incidentally, if you guys would prefer for me to put the reviewer responses at the end of the chapter instead, you just let me know!**

Buffy slammed the book she had been reading closed and threw it in front of a somewhat startled Giles. "I can't do this," she griped. "Not now. Not tonight."

Dawn looked at her as if she very much wanted to agree.

"Well, yes, I understand, but that doesn't mean we should give-"

"I _can't_, Giles. Tonight, it's just too… too…" Buffy hesitated. "You know what I mean. But I can't concentrate on reading some dusty old unhelpful _book_-" She spat out the last word like an insult. "-especially since there's no point to it until Willow and Xander get back. I need to go slay something."

Giles polished his glasses, obviously taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "Well-"

"I'll come too!" Dawn exclaimed eagerly.

Buffy shook her head, seeing the expression on Giles' face. "No, Dawn. Not this time."

Dawn crossed her arms. "You're not the boss of me. I can do what I want."

"I know, Dawn, but…uh... someone needs to stay here to help Giles when Will and Xan get back. And I… I kinda want to do this one on my own." Buffy directed a pleading look at her sister.

Dawn sighed and picked up the book that Buffy had tossed aside. "Fine. Just don't take too long."

Giles opened his mouth at this, clearly wondering how a decision had suddenly been made without him.

"I'll be back in a few." Buffy made her way to the door, shouldering her jacket. "Oh, and Giles?" The Watcher looked at her. "If this turns out to be some sort of crazy-powerful demon, _wait _for me before going after it, alright?"

* * *

Spike stumbled out of the bar and into the empty street, cupping his nose with both hands and cursing his idiocy. Now that he thought about, it may not have been the smartest move to go to a demon bar to attempt to figure things out.

It'd gone well, for the first few minutes anyway. He'd picked up the year fairly quickly: 2008. At first, he hadn't believed it. 2008? He wondered what was happening on _Passions, _if the show was even still playing at all.

The time had also made him consider something he hadn't before. Five years had gone on; Buffy would've gone on with them. If he showed up now, it would most likely screw majorly with whatever life she'd built for herself. She probably wouldn't want him… right? He stood in the middle of the road, weighing his options and desperately wishing either for the blood-flow from his nose to stop, or for a time machine so he could go back and stop himself from being an idiot.

Things had all gone south after he mentioned Sunnydale.

Apparently, it was considered a major loss for the demon world.

And was not to be mentioned.

Ever. Under any circumstances.

In the state he was in, Spike had been lucky to get out of that place alive. Again, he berated himself for his stupidity.

He sighed and began to walk down the road. He had a lot to think about, and a decision to make. But whatever he chose to do, Spike had the feeling that he wouldn't come out on top.

* * *

This was amazing.

Just amazing.

Buffy had almost forgotten how _good_ it felt to have a fight with several vampires at once. On the heebie-jeebie scale, London was nowhere remotely near Sunnydale; vamps popped up in ones or twos if at all. All things considered, it was incredibly lucky that she'd come across this group of four. She kicked one back and punched another in the face before staking it.

"Hey!" exclaimed one. "That was my sire you soddin'-" Buffy didn't let it finish the string of cuss words it was undoubtedly about to unleash.

The two survivors backed away nervously, and she eyed them with contempt and a bit of exasperation. Some things never changed: one of those things being the general stupidity of vamps. "Boys, let me give a word of advice," she stated as she rushed forward with her stake. "If you want to last longer in this city…" Both collapsed into piles of dust on the pavement. "Don't mess with a Slayer." She sighed, slightly annoyed that the fight had ended so quickly, then realized that her slayer sense was still tingling like mad. Wheeling around, she squinted to see a figure in black moving under the dim streetlight. Buffy grinned. This really was her night.

* * *

Spike sensed the movement behind him, the clatter of feet on pavement, and took off, not bothering to see who, or more likely what, was after him. After the time being dead and the demon bar on top of that, he was in no mood for a confrontation, and not in any shape for one either. Adrenaline coursed through him as he sought to escape whatever wanker wanted to do him in now.

But wait. Hang on…

The blood that continued to fall from his nostrils was blocking his sense of smell almost completely, but this scent… this scent was far too familiar for him not to recognize it.

Vanilla.

Spike's eyes widened, and he began to turn.

* * *

Buffy smiled, a fierce light shining from her hazel eyes. Tonight's slayage had accomplished its aim: to free her from the anxiety and emotions and thoughts of the end of the world (thanks for being so optimistic, Giles) that plagued her. To cut loose, to let the adrenaline pump through her body, to _fight_ something _to the death_ and know she'd come out on top was absolutely spectacular.

It was in moments like these that she understood why Faith enjoyed it so much.

As her shoes slapped against the sidewalk, the Slayer kept all of her attention on the vampire in front of her. The light was too dim for her to make out any features, but dang, he was fast!

_And smart, too,_ Buffy laughed to herself. _He doesn't want to get dusted._

Suddenly, and very unexpectedly, the vampire skidded to a halt and turned to face her. This new development almost gave her pause, but she shrugged it off, chuckling at his folly. One more pile of dust would sit beside the London streets tonight.

"Buffy-" he started, but that was as far as he got before she slammed him into the ground and sat on top of him. She held the stake over his heart and prepared to dust him.

Right before she broke skin, she stopped herself.

That voice...She'd known that voice. A long time ago, she'd _known_ that voice. It still came to her in dreams, sometimes. Buffy's mind promptly transformed into a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and emotions.

_Oh god._

_Ohgodohgodohgodohgod._

Because it couldn't be him. It just couldn't be. For some reason, when this British vamp had spoken, she'd heard his voice. That was all. A mistake.

Because it couldn't be him.

But he'd called her by _name_. No vampires did that. And the smoky scent that surrounded him could really only ever belong to one person.

* * *

Spike watched as the woman he loved squinted down at him. Of course, the light, though no problem for him, was too dim for her eyes. She couldn't make out that it was him. But she knew something was up, right? Otherwise she'd have staked him already. For a moment, he was too stunned to say a word. Buffy Summers was sitting on him and holding a stake to his chest. But an overwhelming need to hear her voice overcame his shock, and he opened his mouth to say something, _anything_.

She beat him to it.

**A/N: Please don't kill me! I just thought it was high time for a good cliffie.**

**Uh... if you review, the next chapter might come sooner? Until then, I'm going to Antarctica to escape those of you with murderous tendencies.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh, geez. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me. Wait until after you read this chapter and the second author's note to do that. But I _really_ didn't mean to keep you waiting this long.** **Sorry for the formatting issues. I think I fixed them.**

**_Shinobinin: Take too long? Me? Uh... oops? Don't kill me? I'm glad you liked it though! And you're right about Spike... I just generally don't like cussing in general, so that's why he's not cursing as much as he probably should be. :)_**

Five years ago, Buffy had a dream.

She stood in front of Spike, staring at the golden glow that mere moments before had destroyed the turok-han. The golden glow that was about to destroy _him_. And in that moment, it all became so clear. "I love you," she gasped.

Spike just smiled sadly at her. "No you don't, but thanks for saying it." The cavern around them shook, and the stones of the ceiling began to fall. "Go!" he cried, his voice suddenly strained with pain. But Buffy wasn't having it. She had already given up far too much; she refused to lose him too. Ignoring the burning heat, she reached forward and yanked the amulet off of him with a snap.

"I do love you," Buffy stated. "I'm not sure when that happened, but I do. And I am not leaving you behind. We're getting out together." She smiled at the expression of shock on his face. "You're the one, Spike." Ignoring her crumbling surroundings, she leaned in, her lips grazing his, and-

She woke up with a start.

These dreams persisted for 147 nights, a fact that was not lost on her. And every night, she did something a little stronger, or faster, or smarter.

Every night she saved him.

After these dreams stopped, others took their place. Her and him, him and her, together.

She woke up crying from these. She _still_ did.

For years she had longed for the impossible, her fantasies taking shape in the hours of the night. She'd imagined what she'd say to him, how she'd make up for lost time.

Yet when finally presented with a chance, all she could manage was a strangled: "Spike?"

"The vampire she held pinned beneath her swallowed noisily. "Yeah, luv," he said, his voice hoarse. " 'S me."

"But you're dead."

"Yes, I am."

Buffy glared at him. "You know what I mean. You died."

"Yeah."

Rage came to a sudden boil in her stomach, and before she realized what she was doing, her hand had impacted solidly into Spike's face. "The nose, Slayer! Watch the nose!" he howled. "What the bloody hell was tha' for?"

"You left me," she hissed, spitting the words out at him as if they were poison. "You died and you left me all alone. Just like everyone _always_ leaves! How- How _dare_ you do that to me?"

"Buffy-"

"And then we have to come to stupid_ London_," she continued. At some point, tears had started streaking down her face, but she really couldn't care less. "Do you have any idea how hard it was? How hard it _still_ is? Because every damn person in the entire damn city talked just like you did! I spent my first few months here looking over my shoulder because I thought I heard your voice. Only I never did, because you were _dead!_"

"Bu-"

"And if that's not enough," she went on, her tone becoming somewhat hysterical, "you wouldn't leave me alone! Every night, without fail, you were there, _haunting_ me! I woke up sobbing every morning because I knew you were gone." She narrowed her eyes. "I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but, after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again... I'd do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Every night I saved you." Spike's mouth dropped as she rattled off his speech almost word for word, and she felt a rush of pleasure at stupefying him.

"Buffy, I-"

"No, no, just don't," Buffy stated, rising to her feet and stepping away from him. "There is absolutely _nothing_ you can say to make this better. Just…"

Spike stared at her as he stood up. For a moment, Buffy thought he was going to leave, but then he narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the real problem here, luv? 'M havin' a hard time believin' you mean all of that."

Buffy opened her mouth to deliver a scathing remark, but as she looked at the expression in his eyes, the emotion, _the love_, she found she couldn't do it. All of her misplaced anger dissipated like vampire dust on the wind, and she broke down, sobbing into her hands. Slowly, arms wrapped around her, and she leaned in to the vampire. "No, I don't," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

" 'S alright Buffy. 'S alright."

She sniffed and looked up at him. "So you're back now? Really back?"

She heard him chuckle, long and low, a sound that she'd never thought she'd hear again. "Yeah."

"How?"

"I don' rightly know. One minute, 'm dead as doornails, next thing 'm standin' in a sodding crypt." He pulled away from her embrace and looked at her. "And 'm guessing you didn't have anything to do with that."

Buffy shook her head. "No, but Will sensed a sort of magical disturbance earlier." She tried for a smile. "I'm guessing that was you."

Spike smiled in return. "Prob'ly. How is everyone, by the way?"

"Everyone's fine. Willow and Xander are probably back at the house by now, Dawn's most likely killing some punching bags, and knowing Giles, he's polishing his glasses."

"We should probably get back then."

"Yeah…" Spike began walking, but Buffy's hand shot out and grabbed his. "Wait," she said uncertainly, as she didn't really know what was going to come out of her mouth next. Spike looked at her expectantly. "Spike, I've got something to tell you, and if I don't say it now, I don't know if I ever will." She sucked in a deep breath, momentarily pausing to wonder if this was a good idea. But no, she had to do this; it was now or never. "Spike, I… I love you." A thunderstruck expression crossed his face, but she pressed on. "I have for years, I think, even before you got your soul. I was just too scared to admit it." She scuffed her foot against the pavement and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "I… I didn't realize it until it was too late, and _that's_ what I was angry about earlier. I wasn't mad at you, I was mad at myself. For not telling you until it was too late for you to believe me." Buffy stared pleadingly at the vampire in front of her. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Spike stared at her in amazement. "You really meant it," he breathed.

"Well, yeah, I-" But Buffy was cut off by his lips smashing into hers.

It seemed like hours before Spike seemingly remembered that she needed air, and he pulled back reluctantly. Cupping her chin in his hand, he tilted her face so that she was looking directly into his bright blue eyes. "Buffy, there is absolutely nothing to forgive."

Her heart leapt at his words. He still loved her. He still loved her, they were together, and all would be well. She smiled in a way she hadn't for five years.

"Let's go home."

**A/N: Alright, before I go on with this, I want to request that you keep all assassination attempts to the weekdays, as I don't want to be murdered on a Saturday. That being said... (takes deep breath)... this is the end. I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I really am. But let me explain. This is my first long story, so I'm frankly very surprised I got this far with it, and even more surprised that anyone's bothered to read it. I first started this around the idea of Spike coming back and reuniting with Buffy in an entirely different way than what happened in AtS and the comics. And... now that that's happened, my muse has abandoned me (sobs). I feel like I need to end this now before this gets completely out of my control. And this is the last opportunity I have to do so, since I haven't brought any sort of Big Bad in besides some foreshadowing in chapters one and four. If I go on... I honestly think I'll just dig myself into a horrible plot hole...Please don't hate me.**

**And please don't yell at me. I did get to the Spuffy reunion after all, which is what everyone's been waiting for, I'm sure. And if any one of you thinks that this story has _any_ potential for continuation, I give you full permission to write a sequel.**

**Well, now that I've got that bit over with, in other news, a plot bunny broke into my room last night and is insisting that I go write a Lord of the Rings story. I've been trying to ignore it, but it keeps eating my food and keeping me up late, so I figure, what the heck, I'll give it a go. But I've learned my lesson from the disaster that is this story, so I am not posting it until it's finished (if it's finished). I've got it planned out, so I think it's got a chance at making it, but... we'll see.**

**I suppose that's it. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and/or followed this story. I hope you understand why I've ended this, and that you won't hate/cuss me out for it. :) Thanks again!**

**Cati Jones**


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